


Red Snow

by SexySourAlpha



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Bloodplay, Child Murder, Derek has self defeating personality disorder, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Stiles is a sociopath, Twisted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-21 20:57:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SexySourAlpha/pseuds/SexySourAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As soon as Stiles spoke he knew they were the same. When they first exchanged glances it was like a bolt of electricity was shared between their souls. He could tell Stiles was hiding something from the people around him.</p><p>Something dark, possibly darker than anything Derek had to hide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a warning, this fic does get graphic at times and might be very triggery. I'll try my best to place warnings in the notes.

Derek had to have this, he needed this.

The heavy sound of his heart pulsing in his ears, stage pulsing that was making his breaths sharp and dry.

The heavy rush of adrenaline rushing through his veins, the slick warmth coating his arm, the crimson red under his nails.

He  _needed_  this.

His throat was raw from the coldness of the air.

The once pure white snow now stained.  _Imperfect._

 The deer lay beneath him torn, shredded. Lifeless.

He had held himself back for so long… _too long_. He really tried, a year. That was good enough right? He deserved this.

Right?

 

Derek had been like this since the fire. The fire that wiped out his entire family excluding his sister and uncle who had survived. It was a stabbing pain that never seemed to leave him. That stuck itself to him like a leech, curling up inside of him, with no plans on ever separating itself until it sucked him completely dry.

Growing hungrier and biting its razor sharp fangs deeper and deeper into his soul. His nights were sleepless, he barely ate; he was just empty, a shell of someone that once was. Someone who had been happy, excited…joyful.

But that was all gone now.

The only thing that made him fell alive was this. The kill.

The relentless power of his wolf being unleashed.

The first time he had started small, just killing rabbits; the white ones, those were his favorite. They were fast, but that only made the chase better. He’d eventually catch it and comfort it, hold and pet it until it calmed down.

Until it trusted him, then he’d tear its belly open with his claws. He’d sit it down on the dark forest floor and watch it writhe in his grasp. Shuddering, twisting and turning, ruining its once milky white coat. Now damp and stained with red.

He slowly worked his way up, from rabbits, to small foxes. Laura caught him one day after he had found a small fox, performing his ritual of comfort and sudden death. She found him standing over it watching the small fox mewling in its pain, fighting to live. Fighting its way out of the darkness, only to be swallowed by it.

“Derek…did you do this?”

Derek did answer, he had to watch.

“Derek answer me” Laura yelled pushing him roughly on the shoulder “Did you do thi-.”

“No” Derek knew Laura would know he was lying, but he knew she would leave him alone. Wouldn’t question him. Not now anyway.

“Derek, we’re going to talk about…this. But we need to go, or we’ll miss our flight”

 

That was when he and Laura had left, ran away to New York. Escaping it all together. He’d be lying if he said things didn’t get better. They did, he and Laura made some friends. Got a place together. She made him happy; Laura was all he had left in the world.

 

And then she told him she was going back. Back to Beacon Hills to check on Uncle Peter. A shell, just like he had been.

“I’ll be back before you even know I’m gone Derr” is what she said.

She never came back.

 

That’s when he left to go find Laura. He had searched New York high and low, contacted their small group of friends asking if anyone had heard back from her since she had left. He came up with nothing. So he left too.

Went back to Beacon Hills, looking for his sister. But instead of finding Laura he found something else. Her shell. Her body torn apart at the belly, her hair wet and  sprawled across her face, her arms contorted and broken. 

He picked it up and carried it back to their old home. The shell of their home and buried it. Buried his last bit of happiness and hope. His light at the end of the tunnel was gone. His soul and happiness had gone with Laura. And was never coming back.

 

Until he found him.

The skinny, pale, gangly limbed boy who just didn’t know when to shut his fucking mouth. 

 _His fucking mouth_ , those soft slightly chapped lips that never met. Even when he wasn’t speaking his mouth would just hang slightly open, giving a slight peek of his tongue.

Derek knew it wasn’t a habit; it wasn’t something he wasn’t aware of. The phrase “ _birds of a feather_ ” had never rang more true. As soon as Stiles spoke he knew they were the same. When they first exchanged glances it was like a bolt of electricity was shared between their souls. He could tell Stiles was hiding something from the people around him.

Something dark, possibly darker than anything Derek had to hide.

And Derek wanted to know what it was. He _needed_ this.

 

He waited until Stiles was alone. His father had just pulled off and Derek couldn’t smell Scott anywhere. Stiles was completely alone, which Derek could tell wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. He scaled up the side of the house and into the boys bedroom through the window.

He’d expected the boy to be who “ _Stiles_ ” was, probably say something like “Hey dude! What the fuck, you know there  _are_  things called  _front doors_  try using one.” Or “Fucking shit Derek! Are you  _trying_  to kill me?” but that’s not what he got.

 

The boy was sitting at his desk typing intricately at his laptop. His fingers almost seeming to dance around the keyboard. Each one hitting every key purposefully, straight in the center. His eyes never left the bright screen, his heart beat was just as calm and steady as it had been before Derek climbed through the window.

The only thing that changed was his mouth.  _That fucking mouth_. It spread into a slight smirk and he spoke.

“I was waiting”, Derek was caught off guard by the voice that left Stiles’ body. To anyone else it wouldn’t have been noticeable. But there  _was_  a change. His default voice that was timid, attentive, but joyful was now dark, definite and…arrogant. He hadnt been expecting _this._

“Waiting on what?” He asked, not moving from his place infront of the window.

Stiles never took his eyes off the screen and his fingers continued in their dance across the keyboard.

“Don’t play stupid…you know why you’re here” the boy said ruefully, his smile fading off of his face. Derek’s heart skipped a beat. That smile leaving… _bothered_ him.

“You’re not what everyone thinks you are” Derek mumbled. Stiles’ fingers stopped and he turned to face Derek in his computer chair, his face completely void of any emotion. The bright harsh light of the computer reflecting off the side of his face exaggerating his features.

“What am I?” he asked bluntly, Derek’s heart stuttered on another beat, how was this young boy, who he could rip in half, making him feel like this?

“You’re….like”

“…”

“You’re like me” Derek whispered. Stiles stood up out of his chair and walked over to stand directly in front of Derek, their chests almost touching. His brows pulled slightly closer together as his eyes searched Derek’s quizzically. As if he didn’t need to ask Derek any questions, as if he could see straight through Derek's eyes and into his soul.

But that wouldn’t work, Derek was a shell there nothing to see.

“And what are you like Derek?” he asked slightly cocking his head to the side and brushing his fingers down Derek’s muscular arm. At the touch Derek instantly grabbed the boy’s’ wrist. Stiles’ eyes were stuck with his.

“Answer me Derek. What are you like?” he asked again, his lips turning up at the corners. What the fuck was this?

“I’m…I’m _bad_. I’m broken” Derek answered. Stiles tore his gaze from Derek’s eyes to where Derek was gripping his wrist and back.

“Do you like touching me Derek?” he whispered, Derek let go of his wrist like it burnt him and the boy chuckled. “Derek I’m  _nothing_  like you”

Stiles made to turn away but he couldn’t do this. Play with Derek, toy with him. Derek was in control, he was powerful. Not this bag of bones and flesh. Derek grabbed his shoulder and turned him back around. His eyes showing a hint of red. “Yes you are.”

 

The slight smirk that had been on Stiles’ face was wiped away and replaced by a mask. A blank mask. Of nothingness. A face he’d never seen Stiles use around his friends when he watched the boy, from the woods, his camaro. The café across the street. This was something else. The boy stepped closer to Derek both of their chests pressed together now. 

 “I’m  _nothing_  like you.”

Derek watched closely as the younger man ran his hands slowly down his chest. There he was,  _touching_  him again.

“But…do you know what I  _am_  Derek?” he asked hotly leaning in closer; Derek closed his eyes and inhaled the boys scent. The smell of warm cinnamon and woods covering his body, the only emotion he could smell was playfulness.

Stiles was  _playing_  with him, like he was some type of fucking toy. Derek lifted his hand to push him away but Stiles grasped him this time. Derek knew he could easily break the boys arm, break his entire body into a million pieces. But he let Stiles hold him.

“Derek, I’m  _perfect_ ”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for slight talk of suicide.

After that moment with Stiles, things changed.

A lot of things that would have gone unnoticed by him if he and Stiles weren’t the same were now all he could pay attention to.

The boys smile was one of them, with him Stiles didn’t smile much, he smirked and grinned. But full on smiling was never something they shared. Stiles was still a high school student, a freshman, so he couldn’t watch him all the time. But he did as much as he could.

He’d hide in the woods just outside of the school grounds and watch. Watch how Stiles would interact with Scott in chemistry. Rolling his eyes when Scott would think he had the answer right and swear on everything that he was right, not letting him get a word in edgewise. The way he’d swing and flail his arms around, jerking his head in awkward directions when he couldn’t find the words to express his feelings. The extraordinary way he’d trip over his own feet and catch himself, looking around to see if anyone had saw.

 

It was all an act.

 _Fake_.

Stiles didn’t roll his eyes. He would tell Derek all the time when he was wrong, when to “shut the fuck up and let him talk”. He had no problem calling Derek a “retard” or a “fucking idiot”. But Derek wouldn’t take it, he would grab Stiles by the throat, slamming him up against his bedroom wall, threatening to claw his chest open.

Stiles would just stare at him with that smirk, telling him to “ _Do it_ ” grabbing Derek’s hand around his throat and squeezing it tighter. Daring him to carry out his threat. But Derek would just let him go, let him walk back over to his bed and watch whatever video he was watching online, or continue whatever book he was reading.

 When it was just he and Stiles, Derek never saw him flail once, he didn’t even stutter over his words. It was as if everything he did was planned. Down to his breathing.

Stiles was in complete control of his body. The whole guise of dorky, uncoordinated kid was exactly that…a guise. A white mask scribbled on with a bunch of pretty colors and flowers. Showered in glitter and dipped in chocolate. He was whatever he needed to be to get by. To keep this part of himself hidden.

 

“Why do you do it…why do you hide who you are?” Derek had asked Stiles one night when his father was actually home but downstairs falling asleep on the couch. If anything were to happen downstairs Derek would sense it and be yards away from the house before the Sheriff could reach the first step. Stiles was laying back comfortably in his bed, legs folded Indian style as he cleaned the dirt from out under his nail with a page he tore out from a book he was reading.

“I’m not hiding who I am, I’m just showing people what they want to see” he mumbled

“But if you’re not showing people what you are…you’re hiding” Derek said sternly, Stiles looked up from his nail, his face blank. Always blank. 

“You think I’m hiding Derek?”

“Yes”

“You think _this_ is who I am”, Derek wasn’t sure if it was a question or not, but he still answered.

“I _know_ this is who you are”

“You don’t _know_ shit, for all you _know_ I could be showing you this because this is what you want to see. What you need to see.” he snorted, throwing the folded page to the side and sitting up straight.

Derek’s brows knitted, Stiles was so frustrating, he didn’t know why this boy could get up under his skin and make him feel so…odd.

“So tell me” he said desperately, wanting to know more.

"Tell you what?" Stiles mumbled annoyedly

"Anything"

“Something like how they’re never going to find Sarah Kinney?”

 

The name was familiar to Derek.

Kinney. Sarah Kinney. She was a young girl who had gone missing about ten years ago. She had been playing out in her backyard when she vanished. Everyone in Beacon Hills knew about it, his mother had been so effected by it; she’d go over to the Kinney’s with food and would stay there all day comforting the parents.

She even sent out his dad to secretly search for the girl. Even with his werewolf powers he came up with nothing.

Beacon Hills had changed for a few years after that. Curfews were initiated and it was mandatory that parents wait for their children at the bus stop or they would not be let off.

Sarah’s story had never made headline news, it wasn’t “ _sexy enough_ ” he heard his mother telling his father when he had over heard her telling him about how she had called one of the prominent news stations in California; begging them to run the story in hopes of bringing more attention to Sarah’s disappearing to only be turned away.

 

The Kinney’s eventually moved away when the police had ruled out the kidnapping and pronounced her dead after six years; saying that it was more than likely an animal attack. That it had carried her body with it.

They were tired of being the pity pot of the town. It was rumored that they moved to Georgia. And now here Stiles was bringing it up. _Wait._

“Stiles…you were _six_ …she was four” Derek said 

“So” Stiles answered, shrugging his shoulders, reaching for the torn page

“Did you kill her?” Derek asked softly, not wanting to anger the boy

“You know, I had the _coolest_  toy helicopter ever? Got it for my seventh birthday…I had asked my mom and dad for it. Begged them even, and you kn-”

“Stiles did you kill her?”

“I’m trying to tell you a story Derek” Stiles laughed before continuing under Derk's watchful eye.

“Anyway, my birthday comes…and I open all my presents and there’s no helicopter. I was…I was _so_ angry. But I didn’t want to make mommy sad because she was sick, so I didn’t cry about it. And then later on in the day when me and mommy where watching cartoons she reached behind her back and pulled out another present.” Derek watched how the light in Stiles’ room quickly reflected off of the glassiness of his eyes before he blinked and it was gone.

“It was a shiny box, wrapped in this nice red wrapping the squeaked when I ran my fingers over it. I ripped it open because I was so happy and there it was…the helicopter” he said swaying his head slightly. “I gave mommy a hug and a kiss, told her I loved her, I had done it in the morning too, but I wanted to tell her again.”

“Stiles-”

“She died the next day” Stiles said coldly looking at Derek straight in the eye, that spark of electricity from before shooting between them.

“Stiles, I’m sorry for your loss”

Stiles laughed. Actually opened his mouth and laughed. His cheeks flushed pink and the veins in his neck showed slightly.

“You don’t fucking _care_ Derek!” he chuckled; Derek remained silent, watching the boy on his bed.

He was right, Derek didn’t care. _So fucking what_ his mom died. And? He still has his father. Where was Derek’s family? All _dead_ and buried in the fucking ground. So fuck Stiles’ mom.

Stiles sighed and got up off the bed. “I have to use the bathroom”

Derek nodded and fiddled with the computer until he heard Stiles enter the room again. But when he turned to look his heart stopped. Stiles was standing in the door way completely naked. He wasn’t hard and he looked sleepy, the flush from earlier still pink on his pale cheeks.

Derek could see every soft brown freckle on his body. Stiles was skinny, and his limbs were almost too long for his body. His skin so pale, that Derek could see the veins running along his arm. Derek imagined how easily it would be to tear his skin; it would probably rip like tissue paper.

He could still easily break him; rip him apart limb by limb. Claw his chest open down to his navel and drag him in the woods. Leaving him there to be  picked off by the forest animals. Then the sheriff could feel how he felt.

Alone.

Then he could feel how the Kinney’s felt, without a child. He’d treat Stiles just like his small white rabbits.

He watched silently as Stiles climbed into bed covering himself up and leaning over to turn the lights off.

“You want to hurt me so bad don’t you” the boy whispered from the bed. “I bet you want to rip my head off right now Derek”

“Why would you say that?” Derek grumbled, his frown hidden from Stiles in the darkness.

“You ask so many questions…because I don’t _fucking care_. That’s why. Because I don’t care about Sarah, or her whore mom killing herself after they moved away. Or how your family-”

Derek was across the room and on Stiles in an instant, his clawed hand tight around the boys throat, pushing him down into his bed.

“Do _not_ speak about my family. You don’t get to speak about my family” he growled squeezing tighter, his grip surely bruising.

Stiles wasn’t choking or fighting for air under his grip. Just staring up at him with those honey colored eyes while his face turned red  from asphyxiation. Derek wanted to squeeze tighter; he wanted to hear the boys bones break under him.

It had been so long since he’s done this, just let it out, and let someone else _feel_. But he let go, and Stiles choked, his body hurriedly trying to get oxygen. “You love touching me” Stiles coughed out.

“Don’t talk about my family again”

“You love wrapping you big hands around my little throat”

“Do _not_ speak about my family again”

“Do you want to _fuck_ me Derek?” he whispered, Derek felt the boy shift under him, when he looked back down he saw that Stiles had removed the sheets that were covering him and presenting himself to Derek.  

Presenting his weak, pale body that Derek could just snap in half with the slightest touch. His body that Derek _did_ want to do so many things with. He closed his eyes and exhaled, this was fucked up. He was fucked up. Stiles is underage, he's _sixteen_.

 Suddenly he felt lips against his own, soft lips, kissing him slowly, the slick tongue working past Derek’s lips. The kiss felt so poisonous, so deadly. _Addictive_. Like a bite of a rattle snake, every suck and nip on his lips felt like a bite sinking into him over and over again. Like the snake was pushing its venom directly into his bloodstream but he couldn’t pull away.

The venom was warm…sweet, and he wanted more.


	3. Chapter 3

Derek doesn't fuck Stiles that night. He even smacks Stiles' hands away when he reaches for the buttons of his jeans, licking his lips impishly, saying that he's "always wondered what cock tastes like". Stiles calls him a pussy when Derek pushes him away and tells him to get the fuck out. 

 

So he leaves. 

 

He goes back to his apartment just outside of the suburbs of Beacon Hills and looks up ' _Sarah Kinney_ ' online. 

Everything most residents of Beacon Hills knew about the case was what appeared through most of the search results. 

The believed kidnapping, her being only four years old; blonde hair, green eyes. Reward of two hundred fifty thousand dollars for her return.

A statement from her parents, stating that she had been playing outside in their backyard the last time they saw her. That she had been wearing a yellow sundress for toddlers and white flip flops.

There were few press photos of her parents leaving the Beacon Hills police station. Her father was a blond man, with heavy worry lines in his forehead, his eyes are red and he looks like he hasn't slept in days. But other than that he looks okay, as okay a parent with a missing child can look.

Her mom looks like  _death_. A very pale woman, with hair so blonde it's almost white. 

Just like Sarah.

Her skin looks dry and there are faint red lines on her face, they almost look like scratches. Her hair is worn and thin. She covered in clothing but her lack of weight is obvious in her bony fingers and ghostly face.

The epitome of anguish.

Derek goes back a bit and scrolls through more recent articles, though there are very few and finds a recent one from 2011. 

_Its reported that Melissa Kinney committed suicide in the summer of August 2011. Following the divorce from her husband Jacob Kinney sr. She was found in her home, deceased from a self inflicted gunshot wound, forensic investigators and pathologist report._

  
_After refusing marriage counseling and regular visits with a therapist her husband filed for divorce, shortly after it was final he remarried two months later  to a Dr. Pelond who he had been working with for the past five years._  

Derek scrolled through the rest of the article only seeing a small reference to their " _deceased_  child".

He sat back in his computer chair and exhaled.

Stiles didn't have to say it, Derek knew that he was responsible for Sarah's death. At six years old Stiles had committed a murder. And it hadn't seemed to affect him in the least. He must of followed the story over the years to know that Melissa Kenney had taken her own life. Probably to make sure the trail wouldn’t lead back to him somehow. 

Derek wanted to know why. What was Stiles’ motive to kill Sarah? Such a young girl, they were both so young. For a six year old to even comprehend and understand murder was shocking to Derek. What puzzled him even more is that Stiles had gotten away with it, a six year old child got away with murder. 

Surely his father the sheriff had looked into the case along with other officers. And they came up with  _nothing_? 

Derek knew Stiles had secrets, he knew they would be dark...but they went beyond his. Derek had only killed animals, never an actual human being. Stiles had gone way further than him and much sooner. 

Yeah, Derek knew he was sick. He was aware that he was broken...but Stiles? Stiles was....

-

“You’re fucking sick” Derek says when he corners Stiles alone in the Beacon Hills High parking lot. Stiles is serving another one of his annual week of detentions from Harris; so they are the only ones in the lot.

“...I am feeling a little under the weather now that you mention it” the boy says as he takes the keys to his jeep out his pocket and goes to unlock the door. Derek grabs the front of his shirt and slams him back against the side of the car.

“ _Fuck,_  Derek!” he bellows out in the silence of the lot.

“Did you kill Sarah Kinney?” Derek growls, the red bleeding into his eyes. He was sick of Stiles mocking and belittling him.

“Why do you care so  _fucking_  much? The little bitch deserved what she got!” Stiles shouted clawing at Derek’s arm trying to pry him off.

“Why did you do it Stiles?”Derek said tightening his hold on Stiles’ collar.

“Get the fuck off me!” Stiles growled kicking at Derek. 

“Why did you kill her!?” Derek barked again, determined to make Stiles submit to him; one way or another. He was taken aback when Stiles stopped fighting and started chuckling.

“Why didn't you let me suck your dick last night?”

Derek’s face twisted in confusion, “What?”

“I _really_ wanted to you know...I bet you taste so fucking good. God. I just... let me go and I can show you how kind I can be”

Derek let him go and took a step back, “You should really get help Stiles.  _We_  should get help. The way we are isn't ok.”

The grin from Stiles' face fell and he frowned. "I don't need help Derek. You're the one running around killing forest animals and obsessing over little boys."

Derek knew that Stiles was trying to hurt him, and it didn't help that the boy was succeeding. Because he was right. He was killing forest animals...and obsessing over him. But he still hasn't murdered anyone. 

"I never murdered anyon-"

" _You_  are the reason your  _entire_  family burn-"

\--

Stiles feels his face smash into the cool metal of his jeep and he falls to the ground. 

He expected this much.

Derek was weak. An out of control animal that needed to euthanized. He didn't understand Dereks current obsession with the Kinney case. It had been years since it happened.

If he would have known that Derek would've involved himself like this he never would have brought it up.

The last thing he needed was a spark to get the case dusted off and reopened. 

Though it wouldn't be too likely. The case had been closed years ago. But he'd be foolish to think it would be impossible. 

He grabbed the back of his neck and kneaded it with his fingers.

"Woah, Derek. Did I hit a nerve?"

He looked up to see the werewolf staring down at him, eyes blazing red and jaw clenched.

"Stiles,  _shut.up_..."

Stiles licked his lips and knitted his brows. "You have a lot of anger issues Derr. You should get those checked out first" 

Derek's glare didn't budge. 

That wouldn't do.

"I mean come on, if  _every time_  someone talks about how your mothers flesh melted off of her f-"

 

Stiles heard one or more of his ribs crack just before he blacked out. 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh yeah! I'm on Tumblr! <http://sexysouralpha.tumblr.com/>


End file.
